Of another time we stood with pride And honour in our hearts And blood that flowed with nobility... That blood still runs in our veins The unrecognisable nostalgia of the past A past we didn't live in... A past we never knew... Yet somehow we are attached It calls to us and emotes us Feelings that only few can feel This nostalgia is also one of tragedy Loss that the world is how it is That we can never return to times of glory Greed has suffocated this feeling for some Others are surrounded by paranoia Or dreams of false grandeur The few who remain strong, honourable and true To themselves continue this fight The past echoes throughout the future Without it we are nothing... To the glory of the old and the dark pull in nature We must stand strong, for our numbers are few And this art cannot die The flame burns on in our blood and in our minds And our hearts filled with pride For the nostalgia of the old That runs through our veins